


I just hope you understand

by charons_boat



Series: Curses Upon the Innocent [1]
Category: TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Anger, BOXES, Babies, Betrayal, Black Cat - Freeform, Cat Love, Cat!Taehyun, Character Death, Curiosity, Cursed, Family cat - Freeform, First Time Human, Funeral, Gifts, Hatred, Hybrids, Implied Murder, Knitting, Lace, Memories, Mute - Freeform, Old Ladies, Potions, Reflection, Reminiscence, Robbery, Rocking chair, Tea, Turning human, binding, bound to house, centuries in a house, copious gifts, familiar, half-witch, house bought, jasmine ginger honey catnip tea, magic money transfer, mental speaking, moving in, old ass teacup and plate thing, old spell, witch!yoongi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-04 19:22:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charons_boat/pseuds/charons_boat
Summary: Taehyun never asked to be cursed. He never wanted to be silenced.He isn't sure if he regrets what happened.
Relationships: Kang Taehyun & Min Yoongi | Suga
Series: Curses Upon the Innocent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542079
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. I'll walk over the obstacles

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for months, since mid summer, and finally, finally(!!) it's done enough to post! Thank you to everyone who's helped me with writing this, inspiring ideas and curses! I'm still writing in this universe actually, there's a lot in store for you guys! I really hope you enjoy it as much as I have!
> 
> Thank you Alexis, Cici, El, Rem and everyone else who has actively or passively inspired part of this fic!!

I was one of those cats that were thought to be bad luck when I was cursed. I was the typical image for a witch's cat, although I didn't belong to any witch. I was just a sleek, black stray, living my life without concern.

And then one day, a boy in the neighborhood I was living in at the time started putting out bowls of milk and food. I, of course, took the opportunity of free food every night. I came to expect that the boy was going to leave food out for me everyday, and I waited on top of the roof every night. I'd hear the door open, and I'd smell the food and milk, and the door would close, and I'd jump down and eat my food and drink my milk quickly.

And in the way a cat does when someone feeds them everyday, I came to love the boy. And I wanted to spend more time around him, cuddle into his lap and purr for him when he scratched behind my ears. And I approached him in the morning, quietly meowing at his back door and pawing at the wooden door ever-so-often. And he opened the door, smiled, picked me up and took me inside. And he cursed me into silence.

I was surprised at first, to hear the strange language tumble from his lips. I just watched, wondering what he was doing. As a cat, I had no idea what witches were, or curses. As a cat, I watched until he fell silent, and I opened my mouth to meow at him for attention. But nothing came out of my mouth. I tried again, and nothing happened. The boy was smiling, laughing. He was satisfied with himself. He walked over to me, and I watched in confused silence. He opened his mouth and spoke again.

Before right then, I had never understood the language of humans. It just wasn't cat, all their words incomprehensible to me. When I heard the boy and understood what he had just said, two emotions started a battle in me. Shock, and rage. Two emotions I had never really felt before. They were such human things to experience, and I had never been a human to understand their language or feel their feelings.

"It really worked? You can't make any noise, wow! This is amazing, wait until I show my friends," the boy had said, sounding supremely proud of himself. It angered me to me to no end, and the shock had quickly been overwhelmed by rage and hatred. The boy reached a hand out, whether to pet me or grab me I never found out. I batted at his hand and tried to hiss, though nothing came out. I knew my fur was puffed up and my ears were drawn back, and I batted at his hand again and ran for the front door. It opened just before I reached it, and I wove my way between the legs in the doorway.

Over the next year and a half, I became what could be considered more human. I thought about things I'd never considered before, like what my name was and how old I was. I felt angered by the sight of some people, though it took me a while to figure out why those people repelled me so. It was because they could do magic like the boy who'd forced me into silence.

Not everything I felt was bad. I came to like the emotion 'safe'. Old ladies made me feel 'safe'. They would see me as they sat on their porches, knitting needles and balls of yarn in hand, and they'd beckon for me to come closer. I'd been hesitant at first, until I felt the nice emotion that came from playing with old ladies too deaf to hear that I couldn't purr for them.

Two years had passed, and I had found my way into a small town with a lot of old ladies. There was only one who called me towards her, and I went willingly. The feeling of 'safe' was stronger with this old lady than it had been with a lot of others, so I stayed with her. I got scared when she started putting little treats out for me, bowls of milk and sugar and little plates of sweet cakes. But I couldn't smell what I came to recognize as the taint of magic, so I gradually began to accept her gifts. She never gave me a name or complained that I couldn't make noise for her, but I knew it wasn't because she was deaf. She talked to a young mother across the street quite often.

Without realizing it, I came to love her, and consider her my owner. How could I not, when she cared for me so well? She even gave me a collar, made of black cloth and white lace; she liked to make lace. The night she slipped it around my neck was the night I found out what I really was; a hybrid.

I was confused when I woke up on the foot of her bed and felt much bigger than I was used to. I sat up and looked down at myself. I looked human, though my nails were sharper and I could still feel my cat ears and tail. I carefully put my hands in my hair, feeling how silky it was with my fingers. I brushed my hands over my ears, focused in on my old woman's breathing. I put my hand to my throat and felt the lace of the collar under my fingers.

This was before the days of mirrors. I had to take one of her black bowls and fill it with water from the basin, as I'd seen her do before. I looked in it, and saw…myself. A self I wasn't used to. I had big, dark eyes, big lips, a sharp nose. My hair was black and silky, my ears nestled in my hair. I tentatively touched my cheeks, felt the slight squish of the supple skin under my fingertips. I dragged my finger down my nose, along the edge of the human ears I had along with the cat ones.

I poured the water out and dried the bowl with a towel, putting it back where I'd gotten it from. I sat on the floor and moved my fingers, enamored by how much they moved. I ran my hands over my legs, feeling the sharp edge of a bone just under the skin in my lower leg. I wiggled my toes, something I'd never done before, and watched. Everything was new, and I was enjoying it.

I'd fallen asleep leaning back against her kitchen counter. I was woken by a gentle hand on my cheek. It was my old woman, who made me feel 'safe'. Even now, when I wasn't a cat as I'd always been to her, she was looking at me with the same loving eyes. She smiled, and her eyes wrinkled up, and I smiled back. She pulled me up off the floor, and pulled me into a soft hug. I hugged her back.

"Are you my little black kitty," she asked when she pulled back, giving me a once over and locking her eyes on the collar. I knew that I wouldn't be able to talk for her, so I nodded. She gave me another smile. "Then I suppose I'm going to have to find you some clothes." She sat me on a chair by the table and left me there. I played with my fingers while I waited, turning my hands over and moving my fingers more and watching as things in my hand moved along with my fingers.

She helped me dress when she came back and sat me on her couch, next to her favourite rocking chair. Usually, I'd sit in her lap with her as she rocked, but I would hurt her if I did that now. She pulled out her thread and started making lace, as she always did in the morning.

"Do you have a name," she asked softly. I shook my head. She looked at me, pity and in her eyes. "Oh, you poor thing. You can't talk, can you?" I shook my head again. "Such a shame, and so young too. Well, I suppose I'll have to figure out your name, dear. If you'd like to know, I'd say you're about fourteen, maybe fifteen." I nodded, watching her fingers work. Most old ladies I'd met had stiff fingers, but hers were still quick and nimble.

We sat in silence for a while, her working on her lace and me watching, as I always did. I heard someone coming across the street, and felt my cat ears twitch towards the door. My head followed soon after. I stared at the door and waited for the knock I knew should be coming. That was always how it worked with humans. Someone came to the door, and knocked, and the old lady would stand and open the door and give a hug and a cheek kiss, and then the person would be brought inside to sit on the couch while the old lady made a cup of tea.

When the old lady got up to answer the door, I walked into the kitchen. There was already a kettle of water warmed up. She never let it go cold. I pulled out the cups she always used and the little plates the cups sat on. It took a moment to remember where she got her tea leaves from, but I grabbed the ones I always saw her get when I followed her. I put them into the cup and poured in the water, doing my best not to spill any. I picked up the cups carefully and walked back into her sitting room.

She was talking with the person on the couch, who I recognized as the young mother across the street. I stood and stared at the woman for a few moments, because for the first time I realized how similar she looked to my old woman.

"I'll just go get our tea, and-" I stepped forward, offering a cup and little plate to the young mother. She accepted it with a confused smile, and I gave the other cup to my old woman. I sat on the floor as I watched, trying to figure out whether I'd done it right. The young mother sipped her tea and smiled, and I wrinkled my nose as I smelled the magic on her.

"Thank you, kitty. This is just how I make it. You must have been spying on me whenever I make tea," my old woman said. I nodded, and the young mother looked at me with interest.

"Who is this, Grandma," she asked.

"My kitty, the black one that was always in my feet whenever you've come over," my old woman answered, a kind smile on her face as she sipped her tea.

"I see. Did you kidnap someone's familiar, then," the young mother asked.

"No, of course not. He came into my home from the streets a few months ago. I believe someone put a muting curse on him. He can't talk, either as a cat or a human," my old woman said sadly. I stared at her, wondering if that had been what the words from the boy had been. A 'curse'.

"That's terrible! Do you know his name," the young mother exclaimed. My old woman shook her head.

"He doesn't have one. I'm sure he was a cat before he was a boy, and he's probably never had a name from any owners. I've been thinking of what would suit him," my old woman said. They talked for a while more before the young mother left, and I took both teacups. I threw away the leaves and washed out the cups, and I sat back on the couch. My old woman hummed for a few moments before looking at me with a smile.

"Taehyun, would you like to learn how to make lace," my old woman asked. I nodded, and over the next few months, I learned how to turn the delicate thread into pretty lace. When I'd finished learning, we would sit and make strings of it for hours, until the sun started setting and we put everything away. We'd eat dinner, and I'd turn back into a cat, and we'd sleep until morning.

Until one morning, she woke me up and sat me on the couch. She said she needed to explain something to me. She said she was half witch, though her magic had faded long ago and her familiar had died centuries ago. She explained hybrids, how they'd get cursed as animals and turn into humans, how they were often replacements for dead familiars. She expressed her regret over the curse that had turned me into a hybrid, and her regret that she wasn't going to survive much longer. Her granddaughter was a witch, she said, and they'd been talking occasionally about what to do with her house when she died. They'd decided the granddaughter would move into it, and I could stay if I liked. Or I could leave.

She thought she was going to die soon, but I knew she had a few more years. I could feel it, deep in my heart and in my bones. I couldn't tell her what I knew, but I hoped she'd understand by looking at my eyes.

After that, we continued as we had been. Making strings and strings and strings of lace, brewing cups of tea for visitors, sitting in comfortable silence while I enjoyed feeling 'safe'. Her granddaughter came over more often, and talked to me some. I came to decide that even though she stank of magic, she was still okay. She made me feel a little bit of the 'safe' my old woman did, and I felt more of it every time she visited.

She started calling me 'Tae' or 'Taehyunnie'. She brought her baby over, and I tickled it's face with my cat tail and poked it's squishy cheeks with the pads of my fingertips. She seemed not to realize that she hadn't told me the baby's name, although after a few months I did realize it was a boy. It was my old woman who noticed.

"Yejin, have you told him the baby's name," she asked one evening, while we all sat with cups of tea, though I hadn't touched mine for a while. I was holding the baby. The young mother's eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Tae, it slipped my mind. That's Kwon Junyoung. My first son," she said, a proud smile on her face. I nodded, and stroked the baby's soft hair. I became attached to the little boy, before he could even talk, and I knew I'd be staying when my old woman was gone. If the young mother would have me.

My old woman died, and I'd only gotten to have five years with her. I made a silent promise to keep up on my lace as she lay dying, holding my hand in hers weakly. I was grown now, having stopped aging at twenty-three; hybrids aged faster than humans. I cried silently. The particular muting curse that had been put on me stopped any noise I made, except for noises of movement and pain.

She died early in the morning while the sky wept, the first and last flash of lightning arcing through the sky as she drew her final breath. I dropped her hand and covered my face with both of mine, sobbing in my perpetual silence. The next morning, I brewed a cup of tea with jasmine, like the young mother liked it, and I walked it across the street. I knocked on her door, and when she opened it I was looking at the ground. I couldn't bear to look her in the eyes.

"Taehyun? Why are you here so early, I was going to come over with Junyoung later," Yejin said. I nodded and held out the cup of tea for her. She stared at it before looking past me at her grandmother's house. She pushed past me and ran across the street, throwing open the door to the house and running inside. I just stood on her porch, outstretched hands still offering up the cup of tea, staring at the floorboards as I listened to her wail of despair, cringing and trying to keep my face dry.

I felt a hand tugging on my pant leg, and I looked down. It was the little boy, Junyoung. He was five now, talking and walking and looking like the most adorable kid in the world.

"Hyungie, why is Mommy crying like that," he asked. I carefully sat down and pulled him into my lap, cup of tea still in my hand. He didn't understand yet that I couldn't talk. I offered him the cup of tea and he nodded, taking little sips of the liquid from the teacup in my hand. I gently ran a hand through his hair.

"I like this stuff. It should be just a little sweeter though," the little boy said. I nodded, making sure to remember that the little boy liked sweet jasmine tea.

The funeral was a dismal affair, and the little boy didn't quite understand that his grandmother was dead. He didn't quite understand a lot of things. I cried silently as the coffin was lowered into the ground. I was holding the boy in my arms, letting him rest against my hip. He only looked up at me when he felt my shoulders shaking.

"Hyungie, why are you crying? What's the box for? Where'd grandma go, and how come you never make any noise," the little boy asked, his voice full of innocent curiosity. I only shook my head and kept crying, hiding my ears in my hair and keeping my tail wrapped around my waist so no one would know. This was the only family of witches in the town, and I'd be damned before I got them kicked out of their home because of my carelessness revealing them.

The young mother and the little boy moved in. They brought a hawk with them, who was apparently the young mother's familiar. I never saw it in human form, though I supposed it was because she hated me. When the little boy grew older, he wondered why he didn't have a familiar and asked his mother. She winced and said that it had run off when he was a child, and it had never come back. He hadn't seemed all that mad.

When he worked magic, I watched him. I started helping him sometimes, and we grew even closer. He understood now that I couldn't speak because I'd been cursed, but it didn't stop him from trying to find ways for me to express my thoughts. He tried to teach me sign language, but that didn't go very well. He tried to teach me how to write, but the only thing I could form out of the ink was a language he couldn't read, the language of cats. When he was thirty, with an eight year old daughter, he gave me a bracelet. It was made of thin threads of metal, silver and gold and copper. It was like lace, made with of metal instead of cloth.

"Never take this off, Taehyun-hyung. If I did it right, it should allow you to kind of project your thoughts into the minds of others," he said when he clasped it onto my wrist. I nodded, not really seeing how I could take it off because the loose threads at the back had magically woven themselves into each other, completely encasing my wrist in the metal lace bracelet. I tried to do what he'd explained.

_"Thank you. It's very pretty,"_ I thought at him. He smiled and nodded.

"It worked. I did it," he said, the smile on his face looking both proud and shocked. I smiled back. His daughter came in then, a little chick in her hands.

"Daddy, look, I found a birdy," his daughter shouted. The bird was staring at the little girl with adoration in its eyes.

_"Are you his daughter's familiar,"_ I thought at the bird. It looked at me in shock, and nodded with a chirp after a moment. His daughter looked at me with a smile.

"Kitty look! Look at my birdy, isn't he cute," his daughter exclaimed. I nodded and smiled, ruffling her hair.

"Soojung, I told you to stop calling him kitty," the grown boy scolded. She giggled and ran off. I assured him it was fine.

Over the centuries it took to reach 2000, I stayed with the family of witches. Their magic grew weaker with every generation. They started living more human life spans as more human blood ran through their veins. And then the happy boy was the last one left. And he was growing old, and he couldn't find anyone to love. Anyone aside from me, the family cat.

I had so many gifts from the family that I'd long ago stopped keeping track. I kept everything I couldn't wear in a box. I had earrings all over both sets of ears. There were rings of all kinds on every finger, and my right wrist was lost in the mess of bracelets. My left arm was adorned with all sorts of metal lace and braided wire bands. There was an ankle bracelet around my right ankle. I had necklaces galore. I wore everything I could, because I wanted to remember every member of the family who'd given me the gifts. I wanted to cherish every memory. Most of the things didn't show up on me when I was a cat. The gifts on my left arm showed, as did the earrings and the collar.

It pained me that the happy boy was so stuck on me. He was getting older, and he needed someone different, someone human. I was a cat. And yes, I'd been with his family for ages, and I'd been a replacement for so many dead familiars I'd lost count. But he couldn't love me. He needed someone else.

But he refused to find someone else, as he went from the happy boy to the happy man, to the last one. His magic had faded long ago, but he held the faint smell of it, like a rotting rose far away. He talked to me all the time, telling he that he loved me and he always had. I scolded him sometimes, asking if he was really just going to let his family end like this. He said it didn't matter. He said he wanted me to move on, find someone else I could take care of. Someone who wouldn't die and leave me to take care of their children.

And he died, and left me to take care of the house my old woman had first lived in. The little boy had once told me that he and his mother started this tradition, where the family stayed in the old house with me. I had never met my old woman's daughter. She'd apparently moved away after a fight.

And I went to his funeral, as I had gone to others so many times before. I cried in silence, the only one there for him aside from the workers. I shook their hands and walked away, returning to the old house. It had been repaired many times, built onto as the need for more room arose.

I walked through the house, reliving the memories I could still recall. I brushed my fingers along the arm of an old rocking chair and closed my eyes, remembering days spent sitting in it, making laces, rocking children to sleep. I wondered again what it would be to fall in love, to rock a child of your own into a peaceful slumber and run your fingers through their soft hair, knowing that this was your child, something you made and raised and loved with your whole heart. A tear ran down my face as I pulled my hand away.

I pulled an ancient teacup out of the cupboard, making sure to grab the little plate that went with it. I took a few tea leaves and put them in the cup, the same kind that my old woman used to use. I put in the other things that made it my favorite tea, something that had taken me decades to figure out. Jasmine, honey, ginger, a bit of catnip. I grabbed the kettle that was always warm, and poured the water into the cup. I stirred it and inhaled the calming scent with a smile. It was my favourite smell in the world. I sipped on my tea as I put the kettle back onto the oven.

I brushed my fingers over centuries-old lace, sitting on a couch and closing my eyes, letting my memories fill in the silence around me.


	2. and be there til the bitter end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't even get a day of rest before the witch showed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got so much more in store for this universe, I hope you guys like it!! Please comment, I enjoy reading what you have to say!! I promise I don't bite!!

I woke up the next morning to the smell of magic outside the front door. I shifted into my cat and walked over to the door. I sat in front of it and waited as the doorknob turned. The man who entered the house was short, slim, and had mint green hair. He nearly tripped over me, and I nearly yelled at him in indignation. What was this man doing here?

I saw he was heading towards the kitchen and I followed him, jumping up onto the counter and staring at him. All my earrings collided with each other and made light, tinkling noises. The man stared at me in shock, starting to laugh soon after.

"They told me a cat lived here, and it seems they were right. What's your name, kitty? Hmm," he asked, making his voice sound higher, like he was talking to a baby. I rolled my eyes and followed him around, making sure he didn't screw around with anything.

"This house is amazing. So old, must have been built centuries ago," he murmured. He tried to open the door to the potions room and found it locked. I smiled internally at his failure, until he produced a ring of keys and walked into the room after unlocking it. "Look at all this, wow. This kind of stockpile must have taken decades." I scoffed. It had been far longer than that. Was he just bad at estimating or was he actually an idiot?

He continued to walk through the house, opening every room, even trying to go through my chest once he'd pulled it out from under my bed. I put a stop to that, jumping on top of it and hissed at him noiselessly. He looked surprised. He backed away and I glared at him the entire time. I only let up when he'd closed the door again. He was muttering to himself again.

"This is perfect, really. Not a whole lot of drama in town, cool old house, plenty of stuff. Cat's cute too," he was saying. He took out his phone and sent a text to someone. A few moments later, an envelope fluttered into his open hands. He opened it, put a thick stack of money in it, and sealed it, throwing it into the air. It disappeared, and I heard a thud in the old sitting room. There were boxes, big boxes of things in the room. I watched in horror as the man snapped and the contents of the box arranged themselves in various places across the house. I sat in the rocking chair so it wouldn't be moved.

This man had barely been here thirty minutes and I already hated him. But, I didn't know how he'd react if I suddenly turned human while he was in the house. So, I sat in the rocking chair and glared at him, standing and tapping away at his phone. He suddenly stopped and put it away, turning around to look at me.

"So, I'm guessing that room was yours, the one with the chest in it? And that chair is also yours," he asked. I nodded shortly, still glaring. "Cool, I won't touch them then. And, the potion room smells a lot like you. Just thought I should let you know."

I nodded again. Of course it smelled like me in there, I'd been helping witches craft potions in the room for centuries. I watched him, watched as his eyes flickered from my ears to my leg, to my neck. Looking at everything he could, every odd decoration that didn't belong on a cat. I stared back, looking at his baggy clothes, fading hair, tired eyes. He didn't seem to be much of a witch, not based on what I could see. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave me a sheepish smile.

"You think you could show me which room is mine? I still have a couple of boxes to unpack," he said shyly. I looked at him, everything in his posture screaming surrender. I jumped off the chair and walked down the hall, thinking about whose room to give him. I stopped in front of the little boy's room, pondering. The man reminded me some of the little boy, in certain ways. In his sudden shyness, in his poor posture, in the sheepish smile on his face as he found me in front of the bedroom door.

"Is this the one," he asked. I nodded, and nudged the door open with my head.

It was just the same as the last time I saw it. Bed sheets messy, like someone had just woken up and left the room, quartz crystals scattered across window sills and bedside tables. The desk had an open book on it, pages of notes to the right of it. The ink pot was open, the quill resting on the topmost paper. Ink spots long dried dotted the paper under the quill, marring the perfect, ancient cursive on the rest of the page. The little boy hadn't died a natural death; he'd been taking notes, and there'd been a knock on the door. I hadn't stopped him in time, and the robber had shot him. The robber hadn't died a natural death either.

The man walked over to the desk and glanced over the notes. His fingers ran lightly over the ink, taking in the old, old words on the page. He read what he could out loud, and I frowned when I heard my name in the mix. I jumped on the desk and looked at the paper, something I'd never done before. It was a spell, to connect me to the house. I laid down over the paper, blocking the words from the man's view. I shook my head at him, and he pressed his lips together and nodded.

"How long has all this stuff been here," he muttered. I just blinked slowly, and he nodded. He left the room, and I stayed in my place on the pieces of paper and watched curiously as he came back in a few minutes later with a box in his arms, breathing heavily. He set the box down and gasped as he fell back against the bed. After a moment of heavy breathing, he groaned and sat up, opening the box and beginning to unfold and refold clothes.

I jumped off the papers and walked into the sitting room. I looked back to see whether he'd followed me, and shifted when I was sure he hadn't. I picked up the second box and walked back towards the little boy's old room. I enjoyed the feeling of my gifts on my body, a tangible weight that reassured me every time I felt nervous. I jingled slightly when I walked.

I put the box down outside the door and shifted back into a cat, curling up on top of the box and listening to the soft murmuring from his room. I opened my eyes wide when I felt a strange tension fill the air. I was about to get up off the box when it snapped, and a shudder ran through me. I swear the house wavered for a moment as well, the shiver running right down to it's ancient foundations.

I looked at the semi closed door and slid off the box. I shifted without thinking and pushed the door open. The man was shorter than me. He looked towards the door, his gaze focused on the floor. He was obviously expecting a cat. He froze when he saw my feet, the yarn ankle bracelet around my leg, and his gaze travelled up my body until it landed on my furious face.

"Uhm, you've uh, got the cat's things. What…I'm sorry, who are you," the man stuttered. I rolled my eyes at his idiocy.

_"I'm the cat, you goddamn idiot. Don't you think before read pieces of paper centuries old?! Do you have any idea what you just did to me," _I screamed at him with my mind, as I was wont to do when witches living in this house ticked me off.

"I-I'm sorry, I was just curious, it looked interesting and…and what did it do," he asked quietly.

_"You just tied my soul to this house. Now, I've gotta work even harder to protect the damn place, because if this house goes down, so do I! Witches are cool sometimes, and they can do really nice things. But now, curiosity may actually end up killing the cat. I hope you're satisfied with yourself," _I told him. I shifted back into a cat and walked out of the room, going into mine and pushing open my chest, curling up in it and falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/catfacekathryn)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/catfacekathryn?s=09)

**Author's Note:**

> [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/catfacekathryn)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/catfacekathryn?s=09)


End file.
